Jump, Jive, and Wail
by Dispatchvampire
Summary: In which Bucky has the worst kept secret crush in the history of ever on the cute, new, tattooed teammate. Grace is shy but definitely interested, and just waiting on the right dance partner.
1. Chapter 1

**Ch1: Rock This Town**

The gym late at night in the tower was his sanctuary. Bucky lived for the late nights when he could beat the bags to hell, work his heart and lungs to their maximum and otherwise chase the demon of insomnia with the sword of sheer fucking exhaustion. He liked being by himself and away from Steve's well-intentioned smothering and the curious/wary looks of the other Avengers. Well, not all of them.

Grace never looked at him like he was a hand grenade with the pin missing. His cheeks heated as he thought of her shy smile when they met, and how he'd catch her watching him every now and then. Pretty smile, sweet face, and the kind of body that made him actively fight inappropriate thoughts. She was powered, something about warping space-time, and she always seemed so light and bubbly and full of energy, even if she was on the shy side. She didn't approach, but then, neither did he. If neither of them were ready, that's just how that was gonna go, and damn Stevie's thoughts on the matter.

Steve, bless him, heard all about his crush, like he was a pressure valve that kept it under control and well-hidden, except… well, Steven Grant 'I'm Waiting For the Right Partner' Rogers believed he should go and see about asking her out. Yeah, not so much. He wasn't ready, she was too sweet to have anything to do with the likes of him and he'd just as soon not let his darkness color her world.

Buck wrapped his hands as he headed down the long corridor to the gym, shaking his limbs out and tying up his black shorts again just to make sure they stayed up, narrow hips and all. He was a little confused to find the hallway lit like it would be for daytime, and for growing strains of music to be floating past him. Not that there wasn't music normally playing in the gym, or at least what passed for music today, but this was… Fast beat, swinging horn section, blazing hot piano and an upright bass, this was _music _and someone was absolutely going to town in the gym when he would normally be there alone.

He didn't recognize the song as he came through the door, but the dancing. Holy shit, the dancing. Eighty years stripped away and he was transported to a darkened dance hall with an ten piece band onstage and couples tearing it up on the floor.

In a tight black tank top that showed off the cheerfully colorful sleeves of tattoos up her arms and showcased the rack he absolutely had not thought about in loving detail, some grey workout pants that tied off at her knees and perfectly framed each and every luscious curve, and her hair tied up in a black and purple polka dot kerchief, Gracie was cutting quite the rug in the hardwood area usually reserved for Tasha's ballet. And her partner Barton wasn't doing too terribly, either.

Bucky wasn't jealous. Really. He meant that.

He watched as they danced and shifted around each other, occasional leaps and slides over and around and looking like they were having the time of their lives. Buck watched as he leaned against the wall just beyond the mirror and barre, taking in the beautiful fluidity and unadulterated joy of her movements. Sinuous hips, light on her feet, with impeccable timing, she was incandescent to watch, and when the song ended, he couldn't help but whistle and clap his praise.

Barton's eyes lit up as he headed to the barre to collect his towel and wipe off his ruddy face. His formerly black sleeveless shirt looked almost soaked through with sweat he was sweating like a priest in a brothel. "Thank God you're here."

Grace frowned and snatched up a bottle of water from the floor by the mirror. "Oh hush, ya big baby. It's only been three songs."

"Five, and she's a menace. She's been slowly but surely dancing me to death and I need a break." Barton made a show of panting and downing his own bottle of water as quickly as possible.

"Nothing slow about that music," Buck replied, winking at her and pleased when she giggled. "You need me to step in and show you how it's done?"

Barton smirked. "It's your type of music, Grampa. Let's see you do it."

"Grampa my ass." Challenge issued, Buck stepped to Grace's side and offered her his hand. "May I have this dance?" Her big dark eyes rounded in what appeared to be shock, so he teased, "Don't leave me hangin', sweetheart. Best dance of your life, I swear."

Her full red lips now grinning broadly, she nodded and took his hand. "J, hit it."

'Jump, Jive, and Wail' leapt out of the speakers in all its full-brass glory, and he grinned wickedly. This, he remembered. It may not have been Louis Prima, but he could work with this. Leading her through the steps, they stopped every now and then for a shift or turn, and even the occasional toss. He laughed as she twisted in the air and came down in a slide between his legs before coming up dancing. Barton was right, she was a demon in the best sense and he loved it. It was perfect, this tiny moment between them, where their mutual shyness was put aside and they could just be, both in their element and having a good time.

Barton caught his eye as he vacated the premises between songs, mouthing "You're welcome" with a sly grin as he scooted out the door. Maybe his crush hadn't been so surreptitious afterall.

He didn't have time to ponder that, though, as another song came on, this one even faster than before. It was a breakneck speed and Bucky was here for all of it. She weighed next to nothing as he tossed her in the air, catching her and jumping right into a Lindy Hop-Charleston combo that was incredibly athletic, even by his own memory's standards.

The music wasn't anything he recognized, though it was clear the band was fantastic and so long as the music played, he was more than happy to keep dancing with her. Three more songs played through, including Benny Goodman's 'Sing, Sing, Sing' and even Buck was feeling the heat.

"Hold up, J," Grace panted as she headed back to her water bottle, and the music died just as quickly as it started. "Thank you."

"Of course, Miss."

For a hot second the only sound in the room was their mutually labored breathing as they stared at each other. She was positively glowing, a sheen of perspiration lighting up her butterscotch brown skin and making her smile that much more luminous. He felt like a limp rag, wrung out and still wet, and he couldn't believe he luck. They started giggling at the same time, likely fed by endorphins and what have you, and she had the best laugh, like music and raindrops and he was so far gone over her, he'd set fire to his map.

"Head's up," she called as she went to the cooler and threw a bottle at him with alarming accuracy. He caught it easily and nodded his thanks.

"You're pretty great at that," he told her as she came back to the dancefloor, cheeks flushed, this time not from exertion.

"You are, too. I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that with you." Her eyes grew huge as she realized what she'd admitted to, and covered her mouth for good measure. "I… I'm sorry. That should have… I mean… Dammit."

He couldn't let her stammer her way into walking back the words, not when they were everything he'd wanted to hear. "We'll have to do it again sometime." He offered her his shyest and most disarming grin, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he awaited her response.

Grace brightened considerably, straightening up and taking a couple tentative steps in his direction. The way she licked her lips nervously made her lush mouth look that much more kissable. "Oh yeah?"

Taking a chance, Buck slid up right next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, praying he was getting this right. "Absolutely, sweetheart. Now work for you?" The way she stepped into him and gazed up at him, all flushed cheeks and parted lips, he did everything he could to convince himself the warmth in his chest was heartburn and not at all a reaction to the fire within her. Either that or he would be kissing her off her feet.

"Any chance I could get next?"

And just like that, the moment was broken by little Stevie Rogers. Again. Buck dropped his head as he exhaled deeply with his eyes closed, flashing back to their childhood back in Brooklyn. They popped open immediately, though, when he heard her giggle and felt her little hand patting his chest, burning a hole into his skin through the fabric of his shirt as surely as a blowtorch.

Turning to face him, he found his best friend in grey workout shorts and a black tank top, leaning where he had been when he'd watched her with Barton. His smug little grin made Buck want to pop him in the mouth, but given the mixed company, he refrained, but only just. Instead, he just smiled proudly and replied, "Stevie, I love you, but this right here is way too much car for you."


	2. Chapter 2

He'd missed dinner, not a big deal, just a thing that happened because he got back from his mission late and wanted to actually be clean when he ate food. So needy, he knew.

Buck came around the corner some time later into the communal living area which included the kitchen just in time to see Grace pounce tackle Tony with a running start and an impressively athletic leap over the back of the couch. Startled, he watched to make sure he didn't need to break up a fight, though as sweet as she was, he couldn't really imagine the circumstances for her to be mad enough to attack a teammate, but the squealing hugs and exuberant kisses and thanks put him at ease. He was not at all jealous of her open display affection, nope.

Ever since they shared their late night dance, a new situation appeared to be blooming between them. A kind of permission to explore their feelings at their own pace, which happened to be way too slow for everyone around them. They met up and danced late at night sometimes, the only time they really let themselves go around one another, and while he had yet to kiss her, he was pretty sure she knew how sweet he was on her.

Tony had picked up her birthday tickets to the BSO concert she'd been talking about for weeks and she was over the moon. She'd introduced him to Brian Setzer's music and he found that he liked it a lot, actually, to the amusement of Barton, who still came down to join their dance fests occasionally as well.

She, Wanda, and Tasha immediately started planning their outfits, which made sense considering he knew she'd want to dress to the nines for that kind of dancing. Having only seen her in workout clothes, her uniform (which fit her well enough for her to star in his nightly fantasies), or her usual off the shoulder top, tight jeans, and Chucks, he had no idea what to expect from her. Goddamn, he could only imagine how sweet she'd look all dolled up and glamourous in a dress and heels. She'd look like Josephine Baker, and damn if he wasn't all for it.

Barton was over the moon and wanted to be Wanda's date, Tasha commandeered Sam, Stevie called Maria, and Tony was smiling benevolently like a happy father. He informed the room of dinner reservations prior, it was a lot of chaos all at once, so it was completely reasonable that Buck missed her until she was right in front of him with a shy smile.

"Whaddya say, Buck? Come dancing with me?" She looked up at him through her long lashes, lips out in the sweetest pout and his chest hurt with his desire to just pick her up and kiss her right then and there in front of God and everybody. He'd steal the moon from the sky to give to her if she but asked.

He swallowed that down, though, and gave her his most affectionate smile. "Of course, darlin'. Anything for you."

Grace's sweet smile damn near took out his knees. In the kitchen, as he watched her bounce off the walls in happiness, he snorted as he felt Stevie sidle up to him. "Spit it out, you know you're dyin' to."

"So? How'd it go? Are you takin' her?"

"Whaddya think?" Bucky put the mustard away before tucking into his sandwich, his glare at his best friend strong enough to wither plants. "The real question is, do dames still like corsages?"

* * *

The night of what Tony and Clint were calling 'the group date', he was slowly being strangled in a black suit, hair tied back in a bun, but for her, he'd wear it without complaint. Black on black on black with an aubergine tie and pocket square that matched her purple dress with black polka dots and full skirt with a sexy ruffled slip underneath. Throw in some sexy t-strap heels and she looked like a billion bucks. He got her an orchid for her wrist and had a matching boutonniere in his lapel. She fucking loved it, kissing his cheek as he slipped it on her wrist. Steve appreciated the touch even if Clint and Sam thought it was overkill.

Tasha and Wanda opted for black halter dresses with full skirts and red accents, Wanda in sweet cherries from her ears to her wrap to the print on her dress, and Tasha with poppy red on her lips, and the flower pinned behind her ear. Clint and Sam matched their dates, with the archer in black on black with cherries on his lapel and Sam killing it with the crimson tie and pocket square. Agent Hill was more demure with sleeves down just past her elbows on a dress of emerald green that made her look like a porcelain doll. Steve matched her in a grey double breasted with a pocket square and tie that matched her green. Pepper was effervescent in a light blue floral halter, leaving Tony in a light suit, aqua tie and smug grin.

"It's like prom, he said, "only with sanctioned drinking."

"God I hope not," Grace replied. "I spent at least half that night covered in blood and in jail." Bucky really wanted to ask but refrained.

Dinner was lovely, dancing epic, and the Avengers closed down the dancehall kicking up their heels and it was so good. Buck danced with her all night and just enjoyed being out for a change. She made it easy on him. She made everything easy for him.

Ever the gentleman, he walked her to her room at the end of the night. He truly did not want the night to end, but he didn't want to be too forward. That resolve was tested when she stared up at him at her door with her bottom lip held captive between her teeth.

"Happy birthday, cutie," he murmured as he brushed his thumb over the softness of her cheek. Her plump lip slid free from between her teeth, glistening in the light.

"Thank you, Buck." She smiled shyly, her hand coming up to the base of her throat to play with her necklace like she had done all night.. "Oh!" She took a step back, touching the delicate silver chain, eyes wide. "It's gone!"

The mood was well and truly broken as she searched for the charm. It had been a gift from her late grandfather, a silver heart he'd fashioned for her himself when she was born. When they came up empty-handed, he could tell she was disappointed and sad, even though she put on a brave face.

He kissed her cheek before leaving her to turn in for the night. She didn't need to know his plans, but he was determined to make her smile again. No one should be that sad on their birthday.

After retracing their steps in the building, he found the charm in the floor of the limo. The bail that held the hand-hammered heart the size of a dime in place had stretched out and given way, but he wasn't concerned. He was pretty sure if Tony couldn't fix it, he would know someone who could. Grace was his favorite, after all.

Tony sent him to a jeweler, a tiny shop in Midtown, a quiet unassuming place with a shopfront that Buck had needed to be buzzed through. Fixing the pendant had taken maybe half an hour or so, enough time for him to find a chain to give her with it. He may have been a couple days past her birthday, but something told him she wouldn't mind.

He found her in the gym dancing with a towel tied to the barre while she waited for Clint to come spar with her. They were alone and it was the perfect moment for him to give her the thin velvet box with a purple ribbon that he got from Pepper. She burst into tears when she opened it, and threw herself into his arms to thank him. His intention hadn't been to make her cry, but he could not deny the soul-restoring warmth that came with the knowledge he'd made her happy.

He set her back on the ground and had her turn around so he could put the necklace on her.

The moment she turned back to face him, she was beaming up at him. Her eyes liquid dark with gemstone tears collected in her lashes as she moved into his personal space. She smelled like red hots and she bit her lip as she looked up at him through her lashes to thank him softly.

He lifted her chin with his fingertip and told her how glad he was to be able to give it back to her and make her smile. Her lips parted on a sigh and he leant down to take her lips with his. She tasted like sweet fire, cinnamon and sugar, and when he pulled back from her (after hearing Clint coming down the hall to the gym) she chased his kiss. "To be continued," he promised.


End file.
